


All it Took

by Romavoff



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slow Burn, Unplanned Pregnancy, originally written in 2014, p much ignoring the mcu after catws, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romavoff/pseuds/Romavoff
Summary: He couldn't shake the feeling that something important was happening soon.The feeling had came to him before, when he set foot on that plane and something deep inside him told him it would be significant in his life. It led him to that moment, on a bike in a Brooklyn that was not his own as a woman that he felt something he did not completely understand just yet wrapped her arms tightly around him, and that feeling was back. Something big was bound to happen, and as Steve started the engine and began the path to Stark Tower he could only hope that it was something good.





	1. Chapter 1

"Thought you were better than this, Captain."

Steve looked up at his opponent, his muscles burned with the exertion of the fight, but his determination stayed strong. She had him pinned on the ground, only taking a second to catch him off guard before she flipped him over. Steve had fought many times in his life, from when he was just a scrawny kid trying to get a few punches in in an alleyway, to his current mantle as Captain America, but he had never fought anyone like this. He had at least a foot on her and a reasonable amount of weight too, but she was smart, knew where to hit. The fight had been neck to neck, but he was ready to end it. Using all his strength, he managed to free himself from her grasp and have her pinned to the mat.

"What was that you were saying, Nat?" He asked, a smirk on his face as he hovered over her.

"Showoff," she said, shoving him to the side playfully.

It was early in the morning when Steve made his way to the training room in SHIELD. He had already woken up while the sky was still dark, and went for a run bathed in the orange and red light of the rising sun, then went back to his apartment, had breakfast and made his way to SHIELD. The normal. His routine was calm, easy, and not at all boring. Not even a little. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he pushed the glass doors open, expecting to find an empty training room  _as usual_. But he quickly found that he was not alone when he spotted Natasha expertly stretching her leg out on the bar against the mirror. Instead of going a few rounds with a punching bag, they had sparred the entire morning, the hours passing by quickly as they practiced.

Now as they were done for the morning, he had got to his feet and offered her a hand up. She accepted it, rising up with a grace he had never seen anyone besides her exhibit. "Good match," he commented, handing her a water bottle before grabbing one for himself.

"Its been awhile."

She was right, he couldn't remember the last time they trained together. There was a time in Washington D.C. when Steve would see her from early in the morning to late at night, working together on missions and keeping each other company in the time in between. When everything went down, getting Bucky back with a fate worse than death, SHIELD and everything Natasha had come to know since the KGB collapsing, knowing Steve died for nothing when he went into the ice all those years ago, it only brought them closer in a way he never expected. Then they were coming back to New York, back to their home and she was taking a step back when he wanted to take one forward. And suddenly, their little team was not just them anymore. It was back to their lives with Clint and Tony, and the rest of their team... and then there was Sharon. He still saw her often, was still her partner. But it wasn't the same.

"Well, my schedule has just been cleared up for who knows how long."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Sharon and I decided to go our separate ways," he said, eyes going to the ceiling. It was embarrassing talking about it, like they were teenagers instead of a superhuman and an agent. Besides, he didn't know  _why_ , but he felt strange speaking to Natasha about Sharon. Like the two had to stay separate in his mind.

"Hey," she said, her voice taking a soft edge that was rare for her.  _Not the pity_ , Steve thought to himself as she put comforting hand on his arm. This was not what he was expecting from Natasha  _of all people._ "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he shrugged.  _Perfectly fine_. She raised a delicate brow at him as her hand fell back to her side. "I mean it," he insisted. "Sharon is- she's great, she is, but..." He trailed off.

"Wasn't what you wanted?" She offered.

"Not even close." There was a lull in the conversation as they tread into a conversation neither of them wanted to have. Everything that was unsaid hanging over both their heads, both knowing their lives would be different in that moment if she never walked away from him in that cemetery in Washington. "Thinking about going to Tony's party tonight?" He asked, steering the conversation to a safe topic.

If Steve didn't know better then he would've thought she looked relieved instead of impassive, but he was sure he just imagined the relaxing in her shoulders. "Thinking about it."

"I'd like if you came," he said.

"Tempting," she hummed. She slid her arms into an oversized red jacket, the fabric hanging off of her as she zipped it halfway. She must have stolen it from Clint or maybe Bruce had it tucked away until she found it. She was always beautiful to Steve, even in a sports top and leggings with a jacket that was too large for her and her hair tied up on top of her head. Her beauty was apart of her charm, and it wasn't unusual for her to go undercover in glittering dresses and intricate hairstyles. But Steve liked seeing her without all of it -even if she always took his breath away when she was done up- like he was seeing a side of her that not many got to. Steve was lost in thought as he watched her, her voice not registering for a few moments when she spoke again. "Keep trying to persuade me."

"I'll be there," he offered.

Her eyes went to the ceiling as she pretended to contemplate her choice. "Guess I have to go," she agreed.

He couldn't stop the smile on his face, even though he knew he probably looked like an idiot. It had been too long since he had spent time with her outside of work, and he didn't like the distance that grew between them in the few weeks he was with Sharon. "Need a ride?" He asked.

"I wouldn't mind one." Her phone beeped loudly, and she frowned as she looked at the screen. "I got to go, Fury isn't going to like it if he has to text me twice to meet him."

"Wouldn't want that. See you tonight?"

"Pick me up at seven," she confirmed. She gathered her things, and Steve watched her leave, a comfortable familiarity washing over him.

* * *

It was almost exactly seven o'clock when Steve made his way to Natasha's door. He stood there, his hand stayed raised as he contemplated knocking.  _Should he wait a few minutes? He should wait a few moments_. Showing up at the exact time she told him was odd, it had to be.  _This is ridiculous_ , he thought to himself as he finally knocked.

_Or maybe he should have waited another minute._

The door opened after what felt like much longer than only a minute or two of pure agony on Steve's end, and she greeted him with a smile, her lips painted red. His eyes roamed down the length of her before he could stop himself, her dress was simple, black with thin straps that ended just above her knees, but it took a considerate amount of effort on his part to tear his gaze away. "Hey, Soldier."

"You look beautiful, Nat," he blurted out.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," she said. If she noticed him staring, _of course she did nothing went past her_ , she didn't say anything about it.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hall, trying to keep his distance even as her shoulder brushed against his arm. "Do you think it's going to be tame tonight?" Steve asked. The elevator doors slid open and he tried not to look too deeply into the smile she sent his way when he let her enter first.

Their reflection stared back at them from the elevator doors. Tension was etched into his every muscle, his shoulders stiff and jaw set tightly. Steve had never been exactly gifted when talking to women, he fumbled with almost every word and most of his encounters with them they were in the lead. But it was different with Natasha, she was his friend and for some time he hoped she would be something more than that. He knew her, was comfortable with her. But it felt like they were back at square one, her, beautiful and unattainable, and him, awkward and nervous. Frustrated with himself, he tried to relax. Accepting his invitation to the tower with him, it felt like something more, like it was a second chance to have her back in his life. How? He didn't know. But staring at their reflection, seeing them together, it made him  _think_.

"Are we still talking about Tony?"

"Well Pepper's about a few months short of having a baby," he pointed out. "I'm sure a loud party is the last thing a pregnant woman wants to deal with."

The elevator ride went quickly, and before he knew it they were walking out the door and into the night. It was cold that night, the winter air stabbing at his bare skin making him glad he had put on his leather jacket in addition to the blue button up he chosen for the night. His gaze went to Natasha, while flattering, the dress left her arms and legs exposed to the cold. The cold was more than unpleasant to him, it was flat out terrifying as it almost never failed to drag him back to that memory. Because of the element, Steve had to freeze to -what he thought was- death as he lay in the frigid waters and it was not something he could ever forget no matter how hard he tried. Yet it only took a glance at Natasha before he was shrugging his jacket off, openly welcoming the cold just for her comfort.

"It's Pepper. Nothing can hold her back, even pregnancy- hey, Steve, no," she started as she caught sight of him. "This is nothing, keep your jacket."

He felt the argument on his lips.  _The wind gets rough on the bike. I don't mind, really. Just until we reach the party._ But he kept them to himself, his mother taught him the meaning of the word "no" and he would respect it no matter how small the situation. So he pulled the fabric back up to his shoulders as they walked to his bike. She seemed pleased with his ride, but she quickly frowned when he passed her a helmet. That was something he was not going to take no for an answer for.

"You never wear a helmet," she complained, not taking the offering as he held it out between them.

"I only have one, and it's going to you," he insisted.

She did not seem amused as he placed the helmet on her head and secured the clasp. It was distracting being that close to her, but he tried not to think about it and focus at the task at hand. "You did that on purpose," she accused.

"Helmet hair isn't a good look on me."

"I'm sure."

He got on the bike and tried to focus on the street ahead of him and not on the floral scent of her perfume when Natasha followed suit. She's ridden with him before, hell, she has driven his motorcycle before, but it felt different that time. He couldn't shake the feeling that something important was happening soon. The feeling had came to him before, when he set foot on that plane and something deep inside him told him it would be significant in his life. It led him to that moment, on a bike in a Brooklyn that was not his own as a woman that he felt something he did not completely understand just yet wrapped her arms tightly around him, and that feeling was back. Something big was bound to happen, and as Steve started the engine and began the path to Stark Tower, he could only hope that it was something good.

* * *

Stark Tower had always caught the attention of the entire city, and it never failed to being in a crowd when Tony opened his doors to a select few. Unlike the Galas or charity events they often attended, it was free of reporters or important figures they would have to impress. The team could be themselves for a night, free of responsibility and the constant pressure of being heroes. Steve needed that sometimes, and knew the rest of them did too. It was refreshing, walking into the tower side by side with Natasha without a photographer blinding him with a camera or a reporter asking him about an absurd rumor that was nowhere near true.

Tony greeted them instantly when they stepped out of the elevator. He was doing well, after tying the knot with Pepper a year before Steve had not seen the man anything less than overjoyed since. Now as they were expecting their first child, he had even more of a reason to his positive attitude. When he caught sight of them, he had pulled both of them into a hug with enough enthusiasm that almost made it seem like he was waiting for them specifically despite inviting so many guests. Steve felt welcomed to say the least, and returned the hug with a hand clasping on Tony's shoulder. It felt nice, finally getting along with him after their rocky start.

"Impressive turnout," Natasha commented, eyes inspecting the room around her. The party was held on the usual floor, an open space with a bar and a generous amount of seating. A balcony surrounded the bottom floor, making the space intimate even as it was crowded with people.

"What can I say? People love me."

"Debatable."

"Where's Pepper?" Steve asked. He was used to the sight of Tony and Pepper together, they were a team in every way. Steve admired that, hell, he wanted it, was happy that someone else had it.

"Socializing somewhere. You've got to see her she looks beautiful."

"No doubt about it. How far along is she?"

"Going on four months," Tony said proudly. There was a brush against his arm, so light he almost thought he imagined it. As he looked to his right he was met with an open space where Natasha had been standing, and his eyes went to the crowd as he tried to find a flash of her hair or the sway of her dress. But there was nothing, she was gone. Just like that. "It's freaky how she can do that," Tony commented, getting Steve's attention once more.

"Wonder what the rush was."

"She must hate kids," Tony guessed, "Even if mine is going to be the cutest kid that's ever existed."

"Natasha doesn't hate kids," Steve said.  _Did she?_

"They're not for everyone," he shrugged. "C'mon, it's a party. Go mingle."

* * *

_Mingling_ , as it turned out, turned into Steve seeking out Sam rather than finding a new face to become familiar with. Time passed easily between the two of them as they claimed the pool table, going through a few rounds as they drank the fancy beer that Stark had stocked the bar with. "Are you always this bad, or are you just distracted?" Sam asked. Steve watched as the eight-ball rolled into the pocket and declared Sam the winner. For the third game in a row.

"What do you mean distracted?"

Sam motioned his head to the bar and Steve's cheeks burned. "You've been looking at her for the past hour." When Steve said nothing, he sighed. "Don't make me say it, Man. I didn't say anything when you showed up with Natasha but-"

Not this talk again. At that point Steve should just wear a shirt proclaiming that he just got dumped, because he was getting damn tired of talking about it. "But," Steve said, "It doesn't matter to Sharon what I do anymore."

"You mean?"

"Yeah."

"Never took you for someone who rebounds that fast."

"It's not like that," Steve protested. Despite his denial, his eyes still went to the bar. Natasha stood behind the counter, laughing at something with Maria. Suddenly, she looked up and instantly caught his eye, and she offered him a small smile and a wave before turning back to the conversation Steve couldn't hear.  _Not like that at all._

* * *

Natasha had grown to like parties over the years.

She used to hate them, the constant threats all around her in the crowds and the commotion. It was different now, she was no longer a scared teenager in the Red Room, forced to pull on whatever dress she was told to and to make up her face to add years to her appearance. It was a clear contrast from her past, Steve showing up to her apartment, all smiles and compliments instead of a superior agent coming to collect her. Tony greeting them sincerely and telling them to enjoy themselves instead of being pushed into the lion's den alone with a target and a purpose. No, those days were behind her. Even if they didn't always feel as far away as they should have been. But in times like this, being surrounded by people she had grown to like, it did help the illusion that she wasn't as damaged as she knew she was. And it seemed like she wasn't the only person who thought that.

She had felt Steve's eyes on her the entire night, years at SHIELD never did improve his acting or his discretion. She wondered if he knew how easy he was to read. She's thought about it, how much emotion he showed, how much he felt, and how anyone could see what he felt for _her_. She convinced herself it was innocent when she showed up to the training room that she  _knew_  he used every morning, that she had only wanted to see him for a few hours and nothing more. But even she knew it was selfish to accept his invitation, to lead him on. All of it hit her when they walked in together, even if Steve was oblivious to the stares directed towards them, she was not. She knew what they all thinking, could see it in their faces as she scanned the room.

Why would someone like Steve want someone like  _her?_

Taking a step back had helped, the space between them making her feel less suffocated almost instantly. Unfortunately, that also meant the loss of Steve, of the time she had looked forward to spending with him in favor of comfort. Worth it to her, but maybe she was the only one who thought so.

She noticed Steve's absence right away, thinks she may know where he was headed.

In the midst of the party and without Steve by her side, she had managed to weave through the crowd and to the elevator unnoticed. Once in the elevator, she could get a clear view of the room. Each and every one of them had an opinion of her, but only a few actually  _knew_  her. Knew anything more than what she had exposed of her past while taking down Hydra. She was more, had to be more. Would spend every minute for the rest of her life trying to be better than she was. Yet, as the elevator doors shut, leaving the crowd behind as she came face-to-face with her reflection, a thought occurred to her.

Why did she care what they thought of her?

The elevator glided up a few floors, top of the line Stark technology ensuring that it was a smooth ride. At first glance, the rooftop seemed empty; the doors sliding open to reveal a picturesque rooftop as the city shone in a warm, welcoming light. But as she stepped into the open space, she could see him clearly leaning over the railing, his eyes staring straight ahead. He didn't noticed as she stepped closer to him and even jumped a little when she spoke. "There's a party going on downstairs, you know," she said.

He turned, smiling slightly when he caught sight of her. "Then what are you doing up here?" He asked.

"Eh," she shrugged. She joined him at the railing, and could instantly see why he chose the spot. The city was on display for them, the tower providing the perfect position to see it all. "The company down there doesn't compare to the one up here. Besides, you can't beat this view."

"Couldn't agree more," he said, bumping her shoulder with his own.

"So why are you up here sulking by yourself?" She asked lightly.

" _Sulking_."

"Is that not what you're doing?" She pointed out.

"It's just," he broke off with a laugh, "Who says that?"

"Would you have preferred brooding, moping,  _despondent_?"

"I'd call you a dictionary except all those words have different definitions, and I'm not doing any of them. Just wanted a break," he explained.

"Something bothering you?" She asked. His shoulders slumped as he met her eyes, and he looked sad and even a bit drained as he looked down at her. She thought he was going to say something, could have an idea of what it could be even if she didn't want to talk about it, but he stayed silent.  _Drop it_ , she told herself, it wasn't the time. But... But even if she didn't want to talk, he clearly did. She owed him that much, at least. She hated that he did that, made her want to be a better person. "Tell me, Steve."

"You have to know, Nat. Everybody already does, even Sharon."

"I'm not good for you, Steve. You deserve someone better, and you're going to find someone better than me." And he would, anyone would be lucky enough to have him, even if very few deserved him. Natasha sure as hell didn't.

He laughed then and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish you saw yourself like I saw you, Nat." She opened her mouth to argue but he kept talking. "I don't know all of your past, but I know  _you_  and the person you are now. I've never met anyone as selfless and compassionate as you, and you shouldn't believe the things you think about yourself." She didn't know what to say to that so she kept quiet. Something warm was sliding over her and she looked over to see Steve wrapping his jacket around her. A peace offering, she guessed. "If you tell me that you don't feel anything for me, then I'll respect it. We can just go back to normal," he promised. He took one of her hands in both of his own and looked at her in a way that was more intimate than she was used to. "But if you do feel the same way, then I'm all yours, Natasha."

He never used his head, his heart always dictated all his actions; he wasn't thinking ahead, to when she'll disappoint him somehow. Natasha wasn't the suburban type, could never give him the perfect cookie-cutter life that he probably wanted.  _And yet_ , she didn't have the heart to say no, couldn't lie to him. But she couldn't give him the answer he wanted either.

"Steve, I-"  _Ding!_  The elevator doors opened, a group of party goers spilling out as their talking and laughing filled the rooftop. She remembered when he started dating Sharon, and she thought she lost him. It felt like a missed opportunity and it took her some time to recover from it, but that feeling was back. Like she had just missed a life changing moment.

Maybe it was for the better.

"Can we go back downstairs?" She said instead.

He looked disappointed as he slowly released her hand. He nodded, swallowing hard as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, c'mon."

* * *

"No mortal man can handle this."

"Sounds intimidating," Steve said, tipping his cup forward as Thor dumped the contents of a silver, decorative flask into his cup. The honey liquid swirled around the cup like a whirlpool as Steve twisted it around. He rose an eyebrow at the smell of it, it had the normal sharp scent of alcohol but somehow even more concentrated. Natasha wrinkled her nose slightly when he brought the cup down to her to investigate.

"And you, Natasha?" Thor asked, swishing the remaining liquid in his flask audibly.

"Why the hell not," she shrugged, holding her cup out. Both Steve and Natasha shared a look before taking a sip. At first taste, it was sweet with a honey flavor that Natasha didn't mind as it touched her tongue, but a strong bitterness followed that was almost difficult to swallow. Steve seemed to agree as he coughed and looked at the cup as if it offended him. "Like it?" Natasha asked, smiling up at him.

"It's terrible, but it can get me drunk," he reasoned.

"Well," Thor said, clapping a hand to his back. "Then my work here is done." He took his leave then, off to mingle with other party guests, but not before adding more mead to Steve's cup. And winking at him. Natasha pretended not to know what he meant by that.

"Can't get drunk, huh?" Natasha asked, hopping onto the bar and sitting with her legs crossed. Steve took a seat in the chair closest to her. The tension between them from the roof seemed to melt away, leaving the usual comfortable dynamic between them. Just how they used to be, she got what she wanted. Even if it didn't feel that way.

"Serum doesn't allow it," he explained, taking another sip of his drink, that time without grimacing.

"Don't know how you manage."

"The rest isn't so bad. Not having asthma is always a plus," he mused.

"I'm sure the pecks are always a bonus too."

He chuckled, leaning into her as his shoulders shook. Already she could feel the effects of the alcohol, and she decided it had been too long since she had felt that light, airy feeling. She could see the effect on Steve too when their hands met between them and neither pulled away. She hadn't given him an answer yet, but she knew she should say no. Knew she should stop leading him on.

She looked away from their hands, only for her eyes to land on Pepper and Tony. He was down on one knee, saying something to the swell of Pepper's stomach but Natasha couldn't make it out. It was, as much as she didn't want to admit it, touching, and she found that she couldn't look away. Steve turned and followed her line of sight, a smile appearing on his face as he watched them. Unlike Natasha, he was able to turn away, but she stayed transfixed on them.

"You ever think about having kids?" He asked suddenly.

_No._  It wasn't a possibility for her anyway. Though she was curious about Steve's answer even if she had a feeling she could already guess it. She could picture it, a few kids hanging off of him, taking them to their little league games, he'd probably even drive a minivan. He was a dad through and through. "Sometimes," she shrugged. "Do you?"

"It would be nice," he stated, leaning closer to her.  _Knew it._  "But I don't think it's for me," he said suddenly.

"What do you mean by that?" She was genuinely curious, she had been so convinced on what he wanted.

"Marriage, a family. Just seems out of reach after the ice," he shrugged. "I would love to have those things but it doesn't seem like the life I was meant to have." There was more to it, something he wasn't telling her. He had to be bothered by it, there was no way he couldn't be.

The worst part was that it filled her with a sense of hope, hope that they could be together. Hope that she'd be  _enough_.

His thumb made small circles on her hand. "I didn't freak you out, did I?"

"No," she shook her head. "I asked."

"Nat, look at me," he said gently. She did, and could feel herself losing reason as she stared into the clear blue of his eyes. "I didn't mean I wasn't open to marriage or kids, or even that I wanted them," he said, stumbling over each word. He hadn't done that in some time, be nervous when speaking to her. She would've been amused if it weren't for the subject. "I don't want to set any expectations,  _or scare you away_ , but I'm open to anything that happens-  _if_  something happens. I should stop talking," he ended, running a hand through his hair. He turned red all the way to the tips of his ears as he blushed in embarrassment.

Natasha didn't have anything to follow up _that_ , didn't think anyone could. It didn't scare her away, in fact, it did the opposite. If he was okay with never having kids, then maybe he really  _could_  want her. "Agree to change the subject?" She offered.

"Yeah," he breathed out.

"Steve," she found herself saying, even if the logical part of her brain was telling her to stop, "Thank you for inviting me out tonight."

"Anytime, Nat."

* * *

It was well into the night when the party cleared out, leaving only the avengers gathered on the couches. One joke led to another, which led to a bet as Tony questioned the science behind Thor's hammer, and before they knew it they all turned their attention to mjolnir displayed on the coffee table before them. Tony had tried lifting it, all his confidence going out the window as his grip slipped off the handle and he lost his balance. When he demanded that  _someone else try it then_ , Bruce had given it a shot. He had barely hidden his grin as he walked up, he did try, all of two seconds before leaning back and imitating turning into the Hulk. He looked around, ready for laughter but was met with teasing from his teammates. Steve thinks Clint might have tried too, but it wasn't long before Tony was up  _again_ , and even with Rhodey's help, it wouldn't budge. Steve watched from his place on the couch next to Natasha, with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder it felt familiar in a way it never did with Sharon.

"Gonna give it a shot, Cap?" Tony asked, still intent on someone figuring out the "trick" behind it.

"Go," Natasha said, in a voice that sounded completely different than her normal one. It reminded Steve of the sweet lilt she spoke with when they were undercover in D.C. and she cheerfully informed the electronics store employee that they were engaged. But the way she pushed him up was entirely the Natasha he knew.

He shared a look with Thor, the other man playfully challenging him as he gestured to the item in question. "Alright, guess I have to," he conceded.

Wrapping his hands around the handle firmly, he braced himself before lifting. He expected it to stay firmly where it was, like before he had the serum and could barely open a door on his own. Now lifting just about anything barely took any effort on his end, but he doubted mjolnir would be the same. He'd give it a go and sit back down, but-

It felt lighter than he was anticipating and he could've  _swore_  that it shifted. But then it weighed down, almost pulling Steve down with it. Quickly, he released it, to the disappointment to those around him. The shift must have gone unnoticed by them.  _Good_ , he was too drunk to deal with anything on that level, whether it be teasing or congratulations. Probably teasing. Except as he locked eyes with Thor, the other man winked before laughing, "Nothing!"

Slightly embarrassed, Steve sat back down and hoped no one noticed the slight red tint to his cheeks. He almost jumped when he felt Natasha's lips to his ear. "You didn't fool me," she whispered, making Steve blush even harder. "Always so modest," she sighed, leaning back against him.

"Natasha, want to give it a try?" Thor asked as everyone's eyes turned to her.

They encouraged her, but when Steve looked to her she looked almost... sad? But the expression was gone quickly, and she only laughed before saying, "That's not a question I need answered."

"Always so modest," Steve teased, low enough for only her to hear. They both missed Thor laughing as he easily picked up mjolnir and even gave it a flip.

"And I think I've had enough tonight," Tony declared, looking only  _slightly_  wounded that he didn't outsmart a piece of metal. "You're all welcome to thank me for providing you with rooms in  _my_  tower so you don't have to haul your drunk asses home," Tony said, rising from the couch. To no ones surprise, he didn't receive a "thank you," just Clint tossing an empty plastic cup at him. "Goodnight to you all too then," Tony huffed, making his way to the elevator.

Sleep sounded more appealing to Steve in that moment than it had in awhile, but something was keeping him tethered to Natasha and not following his team like he should have. He didn't want to leave her side for a minute, and without his inhibitions he was considering asking her to stay up with him. Just the two of them. He was so deep in the thought that Thor clasping a hand on his shoulder startled him, even if he didn't show it. "It's not the right time."

"Come again?"

"Mjolnir. It didn't go unnoticed. Even if you are worthy, it's not the time yet."

"Yeah, I'm hoping no one else saw that," Steve said, eyeing everyone entering the elevator. And hoping Natasha wasn't with them.

"I respect your modesty... even if I don't understand it. Have a good night, Steve."

Steve swallowed, realizing Thor's departure had left him alone with Nat. She was at his side, wrapping an arm around his. "Planning on staying?" Steve asked.

"Think so. Beats getting a cab this late."

"Mind if I walk you?" Thor's words echoed in his head,  _not the right time_. He couldn't help but apply it to his current situation. it seemed like he was always waiting for the right time, only for it to pass him by without even giving him a chance. He remembered Peggy, and only thinking ahead. To when the war was done, to when they were free of their responsibilities, to when they could be together. Then he took a nosedive into the ocean, and she was laying in a bed somewhere fighting Alzheimer's after living her entire life. And he was here, with Natasha. Something told him that she was special, and that he shouldn't miss her again. "I'm not ready to say goodnight yet."

"Then don't."

Steve didn't know who leaned forward first, all he knew was that Natasha's lips were on his and that they were pulling each other closer. Time seemed to stop, and he didn't know how long it had been before Natasha pulled away. An apology was already on his lips, but Natasha was speaking before he could get it out. "We should stop."

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Don't be," she said quickly, " I think we should sleep now."

He nodded and offered her a hand up. Quietly, they walked hand in hand to the elevator, and they remained in silence as Steve walked her to her door. He felt an urge to apologize again. He stuck to his word, and he meant it when he said he'd back off if she didn't want him.  _She never said no_ , he thought to himself. But she never said yes either. He knew he had to let go of her hand, he did, but he just wanted a few more moments with her-

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" She asked suddenly.

"On the roof? Yeah, yeah I'll back off. I'm sorry-"

"No, about what you thought... of me."

"You know I did, Nat. All of it," he answered. Something in the way he said it confidently and without hesitation made something flicker in her eyes. He'd seen it before. When they were on the run and had taken refuge in Sam's guest room, when he promised her that he trusted her.

Natasha was the one to lean in then, but Steve didn't hesitate to kiss her back. It was wrong, he  _knew_  it was wrong. They should slow down, do it right. But he could never think straight around her and the alcohol still heavy in his system wasn't helping. Nothing was stopping them from rushing into the room and continuing their night in private, and Steve couldn't think of any reason why they shouldn't. And, he guessed, neither could Natasha. It wasn't until after, when Natasha was asleep in his arms and sleep had almost completely consumed him, did he stop to consider what they had just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used to have an account on here but I deleted it because Ao3 intimidates me, but decided to get back into it and rewrite some of my old things. Let me know what you think! Also my tumblr is @natasha-romanofff if you're, like, interested.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha had moved to many places many different times in her life, and had woken up in countless environments. Each one new and unrecognizable, and most of the time she would leave and never see it again. Yet sometimes in the few moments of early consciousness before her eyes had opened, she still expected to be in her bed in the Red Room, lined up among the other girls with her wrist handcuffed to the headboard. The thin sheet provided for them doing little to shield her from the cold air while she laid awake trying to prepare herself for the horrors of the day that she would have no choice but to face. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her breath getting short, the insisting feeling that she _had_ to get out consuming her-

Her eyes flew open at the memory that seemed so real only seconds before, only to be met with the walls of her bedroom in Stark Tower. Safe. _Free._

Eyes darted around the room as her heart slowed back to a steady beat. She moved her wrist in a circle trying to shake the ghost of the restraints she had been forced to sleep with for so many years. The light streaming through the sheer curtains seemed brighter, the horns and the shouts from the street below even louder than usual as her head pounded and her eyes burned. She was hungover. How embarrassing. The last time she had been hungover she was seventeen and had too much while undercover for the Red Room, her target had gotten away while she tripped out of her heels trying to follow him. She was punished for it, in ways that she did not care to remember. Didn't need to as she quickly learned how to handle a drink, but whatever Thor had given her had actually effected her. It even managed to do something to Steve- and _she didn't._

She looked down.

One of his arms were wrapped around her, and he was close, closer than she ever thought she would have him. She could feel the heat of his bare skin against her own all along her back, and it was, _well_ , it was nice. Comforting, even. Her eyes roamed to the floor only to recognize the blue button up he had worn and her own dress from the night before. The rumpled clothes thrown together telling the story plain and clear.

A part of her told her to leave, to run for the door; but the other part, a much softer part of her, wanted to stay in bed with Steve. Go back to sleep and wake up an hour or two later when the sun peeked through the curtains and reached them in the bed. But then what? Sure, he said a lot of things to her the night before, but in the morning light he'd see what a big mistake it was. See that she didn't deserve him no matter what happened between them.

She shifted soundlessly to turn to him without waking him up. Steve always carried a burden -of leadership, of his past, of the things he wouldn't share- and it showed in his face when he was awake. In the lines already creasing between his brows and the ever present frown on his lips. Lightly, she traced the spots with her fingertips, admiring the smooth skin on his forehead, and even the corners of his parted lips. When he was asleep he looked much more relaxed, peaceful. Sleep provided him with a much needed break from his reality.

Her hand froze, the intimacy of it all finally striking her. It felt personal, like she was invading his privacy seeing his guard down; she wasn't the one that should be able to see that side of him. So she took one last look at him, tried to save the image of him sleeping peacefully before she had to leave.

Slowly, she tried to slip out of his arms, but he stirred slightly at the loss of contact. She froze, expecting his eyes to open. But he remained asleep, and didn't move when she slipped completely out of his grasp and got up. She pulled on the previous night's clothes quickly as she walked to the door, but not before allowing herself one last look at Steve. He was still asleep, oblivious to the fact that he was suddenly alone. If she left, something between them would shift. They wouldn't be the same. But she didn't know for sure what would happen if she stayed, and she didn't want to find out. So she turned on her heels and left.

* * *

 

Steve was used to waking up alone.

Women were not exactly banging down his door before he was Cap, and he felt safer running through a battlefield than he ever would have felt bringing a man home. During the war everything was so rushed, the nights he spent in another's company never extended to the morning and always ended with a chaste kiss and a final goodbye. It was easy to accept back then, but now, now he wanted to wake up next to someone. Not just anyone, he wanted Natasha. Wanted to sleep with her in his arms and have her be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. He almost couldn't believe that it was happening, that what he wanted was quite literally in his grasp.

The bed was warm, and a sense of bliss washed over him as his eyes fluttered open- only to see that he was alone. Like he always was. His optimistic side wanted to think that she hadn't left him, that she had simply gotten up before him and wasn't too far. Maybe in the shower or _something_. But any hope left in him was gone when he saw her dress gone.

He slumped back into the pillows, not knowing what to feel. He wanted to be upset with her, but couldn't after their night together. More than anything he was confused and hurt.

And he just wanted to know why.

He had allowed himself a moment, even if it was Natasha's floor and he really should have gotten the hell out of there. But he couldn't move as he sat alone, staring at the wall as his chest ached with a heartache that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was worse than being dumped, he didn't even get a chance with Natasha. He should have slowed down, should have let her know how much she meant to him.

It took some effort to get up, then again it always did when he was alone, and get himself to the elevator. Thankfully the serum took care of any hangover he might have gotten, and he was probably up before any of his teammates. But then again, Natasha always woke up as early as he did. _He just had to be sure._

He pressed the button for the common room floor instead of the ground level where his bike was. He couldn't help the swell of hope already building in his chest as he watched the numbers tick down until he reached his destination. She wouldn't leave him, not after everything they had been through. He was sure of it. But as the elevator doors slid open, he was met with an empty room, still littered with a mess the party left the night before. A quick investigation only proved that the floor was empty, all except for one person.

Tony was sitting on one of the couches, a tablet resting against his propped knee and a cup of coffee in his hand. Surprisingly, he looked refreshed, even in a good mood as he caught sight of Steve. "Got dumped huh?" He said in place of a greeting.

"Good morning to you too," he said dryly.

"Oh c'mon, you can't be that bent out of shape, not with how fast you rebounded. Got to say, Cap, never expected that from you," Tony went on. "Can't say that you and Natasha were a surprise though, it was only a matter of time before that happened. And you're welcome, by the way, since it happened at _my_ party."

_As if he couldn't feel worse._ "Don't speak too soon on that," Steve said, falling into the chair besides Tony.

Tony shut off the tablet and set it aside before sitting up straighter. "What do you mean by that?"

He didn't want to talk about it, especially to Tony of all people but he couldn't help it as he said, "Guess she regretted it, she bailed pretty quickly."

"No," Tony said, "She wouldn't do that to you. Jarvis? What time did Widow leave the building?"

Steve's heart sunk as the A.I. confirmed what he hoped hadn't been true. "Miss Romanoff took her departure at 6:47 this morning."

Tony rubbed at his face, unsure of what to say or do. Stark speechless, Steve never thought he'd see the day. "Shit happens for a reason. Maybe you and Natasha have some things to figure out," Tony said at last.

"Guess we do."

* * *

 

"I don't understand why you're wasting my time right now."

"It's not a difficult request," Natasha insisted, refusing to budge.

Fury stared her down, looking annoyed as he sized her up. "It is a 'difficult request' you and Captain Rogers have a full schedule of missions planned for the next month, and you want me to change all of that just so you don't have to work with him?" It sounded ridiculous after hearing it out loud, but she was nothing if not stubborn. "Natasha, you and I both know that I can't do that. Maybe this will teach you not to mix business with personal," he said.

She sighed, knowing it was the end of the conversation. She rose, mind buzzing as she left Fury's office, and she was so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed Steve until she almost ran into him. She wished she had avoided him, and wished he wasn't looking at her like that. He had heard the whole conversation, the look on his face making that much obvious. It looked like he was going to say something, but decided not to as he said a quick "excuse me" before passing her.

She looked over her shoulder and watched him disappear into Fury's office. The most kind, loving man she had ever met, who had offered her so much, and she ruined him. She only hoped that he knew it was for the better sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments they were very kind and I appreciate each one!


	3. Chapter 3

Two months.

Two months of tense air between them. Two months of refusing to look each other in the eye. Two months of forced politeness laced in every short encounter they had.

Fury meant it when he said he wouldn't change the plans, which was how she found herself facing Steve almost daily at SHIELD. Through missions, training, and meetings, there was no way she could avoid him. They kept things between them curt and professional, only speaking to each other when necessary, and parting ways once the option was available. They were able to put anything between them aside so they could do their job at least, but the second they were done, everything snapped back to how it was. Clint was with them, and wise enough to pretend he didn't notice what was going on between them. Although Clint's patience seemed to also snap that night. He had been understanding, had picked up on the tension between them and kept it professional. But as they were boarding the quinjet to return home he said nothing as he went straight for the pilots seat, the frustration on his face evident that he was done playing the middle man.

The ride back was short, out of state but not as far as they could have been. One hour, maybe two, tops and they would be home; she could handle being near him for that long, just as long as she didn't have to speak to him. The minutes seemed to drag on with every word they spoke to each other when they needed to, and she was relieved that she wouldn't have to endure it for the ride. It was strange, being so close to him only a few weeks before when in that moment she was not even able to look him in the eye. Couldn't even sit next to him as she claimed the seat opposite to his for the duration of the ride. Natasha had never dealt with anything like this before, she was no stranger to casual sex. Hell, the Red Room taught her that it was a weapon in its own right. It wouldn't be like this with anyone else but Steve. Anyone else and she would have been able to part ways and continue like nothing happened. But it wasn't casual, at least not to him, and even if she didn't want to admit it out loud, it wasn't to her either. In the haze of the alcohol and whatever else she was feeling that night, she was genuinely convinced that they could be together after. That he would wake up and want her, that she would magically be enough for him in the morning light. At first she thought maybe he was upset that she had lured him into bed with her, used him just as easily as she did a mission target while undercover. But she could see that he was in pain, could see it every time she caught him looking at her. He was too caring for his own good, he had to be if he trusted someone like her, and he had the heartbreak to show for it.

She felt awful, at least, that she was the reason he was hurting. She wished she could explain herself, explain that things were better if she kept her distance. That it was for his own good.

"How long until we're back to normal, Natasha?"

Just when she thought they were going to have an easy flight. "I don't think we ever can be," she said.

It was difficult for him, she could see it in the way he kept his eyes trained on the wall. Not that she really wanted to face him in that moment either. "Did I- did I do something or say something out of line?" Of course he blamed himself. All she wanted to do was tell him she wasn't worth it, that she knew what she was doing even if it hurt them both. But she couldn't even look at him. She could picture his face, half lidded eyes with wisps of lashes against the tops of his cheeks, brows furrowed slightly, a hand brought to his face with a finger pressed against his lips. The image only made her thoughts go to his lips, incredibly soft, softer than Natasha thought they would be when he leaned in close to her.

She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. For days all she could think about was their night together, even if it came with the guilt. "No, you didn't do anything," she reassured him.

"Then why did you leave."

_Because I don't deserve you, even if you don't realize it now._  It was on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped the thought before it could come out. "It was a casual hookup. I'm sorry if you misinterpreted it or if I sent the wrong signals, but we don't owe each other anything, Steve," she said instead. It sounded harsh even to her own ears, but she couldn't give him even the slightest hope that she felt the same.

"You and I both know that's not true."

Why did he have to be so stubborn? "What are you saying?" She asked, her voice flat as she was careful to not let emotion through.

"I'm saying," Steve started with a sigh, "There's a reason we hooked up. Something that we should talk about, and see what happens." He turned to her as he said those last words, but she didn't acknowledge him in return. She felt his blue eyes burning into her, and she wanted him to stop. Stop looking at her, stop the conversation, and stop trying to convince himself that she was something that she was not.

"It was a mistake, and it didn't mean anything," she snapped. "Don't try to make it something it wasn't." If she couldn't take that night back, then she could at least stop anything else from happening.

He sighed in defeat, and sunk back into his chair with his eyes on the wall again. As Natasha glanced up, her eyes locked with Clint's as something resembling pity crossed his features before he turned back to the controls.

Two months. Two months of silence. Two month of tension.

Two months of Natasha being late.

* * *

It didn't make sense to Steve. He had never felt closer to her than that night, being with her in a way that it never was with anyone else. The last thing he expected was that it would create a rift between them, bigger than it ever had been before. And as his eyes landed on her from across the bar, it occurred to him that maybe it will never be fixed. Not when his chest tugged painfully when he caught sight of her smiling at something Tony was saying.

It was Tony's idea to come out, he had messaged everybody to meet at the bar he chose for the night. Some trendy place near the tower. He had passed it a few times, might have thrown a chitauri through their window during the battle of New York. Who could keep track. He hesitated to agree to the plans, but Thor was expected back to Asgard soon and it was rare when they were all together. So he agreed, and tried not to think about if he was ready to face Natasha just yet. He should have. Should have thought about how much he still wanted her and how just a glimpse of her could bring his mind back to those few short hours when he thought she was finally his.

No one had noticed him walk in yet, he could turn around and go home. Text Tony some excuse about working or something. But he felt frozen in place. Natasha looked beautiful, like she was more relaxed. Happier. He could see it in the way she playfully plucked the dart out Bruce's hand before he could toss it at the board, laughing easily with everyone else. Something told him it was likely because he wasn't there. He should leave, let her have the night. She deserved a few hours of relaxing without having to see him. But then Natasha's eyes landed on him, her laughter fading and the smile slipping off her face.

He nodded to her, hoping she understood that he wouldn't bother her. With his mind made up, he turned on his heels with every intention of leaving. Of getting back on his bike and going straight home. But then he heard Tony calling out to him and he froze in his tracks. "Hey! Wrong way, Old Man."

He took a deep breath before he turned around, tacking on a fake smile as they greeted him. They were all smiles as he walked to the table they claimed. Tony pressed a beer into his hand as he said, "Glad you could make it."  _At least someone was_ , Steve thought to himself as Natasha turned her attention back to Bruce and Clint's game of darts. So did Steve, just to have something to do besides hold his beer.

Bruce had managed to make it onto the target twice, as Steve assumed the four lodged in the wall were from him. "Watch this," Clint announced. In the same manner Steve had seen him use his bow, Clint raised the final dart to his eyesight and concentrated carefully before sailing the dart through the air. It landed right in the middle of the board, ending the game.

"Showoff," Natasha teased.

"It's darts or I do karaoke, and nobody wants that."

"They don't have karaoke here," Bruce interjected as he tried to collect his rogue darts. He seemed to be struggling a bit as he placed a hand on the wall to balance himself while trying to dislodge them. Natasha rose, assisting him as she quickly plucked them from the wall.

"There is nothing stopping me from getting up on that counter and changing that," Clint claimed, settling into the chair besides Natasha's.

" _I'm_  stopping you. I've heard you sing, and I'm willing to save everyone's ears in this bar," Natasha said.

"Noble," Clint quipped. "You should consider joining the avengers."

"Nah, they're a bunch of idiots," she said, returning the darts to where they belong and sitting back in her chair.

They were all at the table, and there was a conversation going on but Steve couldn't tune himself into it. He remained quiet, unsure of what to do with himself. Getting another round could kill a few minutes but the pitcher in the middle was still almost full, and he didn't feel like playing darts, or pool, or whatever else they had there. If he was being honest, he had spent the whole day in meetings and sleep was sounding more appealing by the minute. Especially considering it would mean that he could leave. It didn't help that Natasha was across from him, so close that he could reach out and touch her if she would have allowed it. He couldn't help his eyes finding her as she listened to whatever Thor was saying. Not that it mattered, besides a curt hello she had yet to acknowledge him. She was wearing a green jacket, he had never told her but he always liked her in it. Thought it made her hair stand out, which had grown out a bit since they returned to New York and she had taken to keeping her natural curls. He liked the curls. After they had made love and she was curled up on his chest, he ran a hand through her hair and told her so. She had smiled, told him she would keep it in mind before pulling him in for another kiss. He wondered if she thought of him in the mornings, when she left her hair how he liked it. He thought of her every time he chose what to wear, thought of the way she had said she liked him in blue as she undid the buttons of his shirt. Right before she ran her hands down his chest, kissing along his neck until she found that sensitive spot just below his ear-

He shook his head to clear it, the memory was still painfully vivid even weeks later. He tuned into whatever Thor was saying to the group to distract himself. "There was one time when Loki and I were children, he transformed himself into a snake. And he knows that I love snakes, so I went to pick up the snake to admire it. And he transformed back into himself, and he was like, "MBLERGH, it's me!" And he stabbed me. We were eight at the time," Thor said, speaking animatedly as he told the story. On instinct he turned to Natasha only to find her doing the same, and they shared a look of amusement before she caught herself and turned away from him. But he watched her as she wrapped her hands around the glass in front of her. It looked untouched, which might have been for the better considering what happened the last time she had drank. She took a sip, but openly grimaced when the beer touched her lips.

"Something wrong?" Steve found himself asking as she set the glass down.

"I'm fine, it just tastes odd," she explained, pushing the glass away from her.

Clint reached out and took a drink of it. "Tastes fine to me," He shrugged. "Must be you."

"It's getting late," she said suddenly, "I should head out."

"We just got here," Tony said lightly. "Stay another hour at least."

"I've got an early morning tomorrow, I should really go," She declined, rising from her chair. It was a lie, they both had the morning to prepare before they headed out for a mission the next night. It's not like she had anything else, all she ever did was work. Then again, so did he, except for the short time he was with Sharon. Suddenly, the thought made fear flare in his chest at the possibility that she might be seeing someone. Kissing someone else, sharing herself with someone else, making love to someone that  _wasn't_  him. Steve surprised himself with the jealousy that coursed through him, demanding his attention as it filled his head with the possibilities. He missed Natasha leaving, though it's not like she could have gotten out of there any faster.

"I should go too," Steve announced. He racked his brain for a valid excuse, though Natasha had already taken the best one and even if she didn't, he was a horrible liar. So he offered no excuse, just apologies as they tried to get him to stay. The fresh air was a relief when Steve made it out the door after saying his goodbyes, and he welcomed it as he took a moment. Trying to calm himself down and give himself a break from thinking about Natasha for at least a moment. But he couldn't. He doesn't think he will ever stop wanting her, can't imagine that there will ever be anyone else.

The only problem was that she would never want him back.

* * *

She didn't feel like herself. She was off, had been off for weeks, and Steve's presence on every mission was not helping. Their conversation on the quinjet a week before had only made it worst, she couldn't focus, couldn't think of anything but Steve as she followed through with their plan. It was simple, at least, a few SHIELD agents had been taken hostage, and Steve had already done the bulk of the fighting by himself. There were no extra tasks given to her by Fury, she only had to stay close and watch Steve's back as they tried to locate the agents. Which was why there was no excuse as she fell behind, still caught up in a fight with a Hydra agent that she usually would've ended within seconds.

"Romanoff, do you copy?" She heard Steve's voice in her ear piece.

"Where the hell are you, Tasha?" Clint's voice followed soon after.

"A little busy right now," she replied, narrowly missing a fist swinging her way.

"I don't have eyes on you," Clint said.

She ignored them, trying to focus on her opponent and not on Clint's voice. She tried to sweep the leg, but she only swiped at the open air as he dodged her. "Are you still clearing the third floor?" Steve asked, sounding agitated even through the static of the earpiece. "Romanoff, answer me."

She tried to block him out as she tried her signature move. She just had to hook a leg onto him, and spin him down, she had down more times than she could count. But as she tried, the hydra agent had gotten a firm grasp on her, swinging her down to the ground. Her head connected with the concrete, and black spots filled her vision as she felt the pain radiating from the back of her head. As the Hydra agent made his departure out of her line of sight, she could feel herself lose consciousness. Faintly she could hear Steve calling her name, but it was too far to be in her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed and she dully registered that she was being lifted up, swaying slightly as whoever was holding her began to walk. Her instincts would have kicked in but the gentle way she was being handled told her it wasn't a threat. She managed to crack an eye open, only to see a star across Steve's chest as he held her close.  _Steve_. As her eyelids slipped closed and she slipped into unconsciousness, she could hear him speaking softly to her.

"I got you, Natasha."

* * *

She was fine.  _Had_  to be fine. It was Natasha, it would take more than a bump on the head to take her down. Still, he couldn't stop the tension in his chest as he looked at her unconscious on the hospital bed before him. Clint had called backup and had finished the mission without either of their assistance, and had slipped into the room in the medical ward in SHIELD that Natasha was resident in not too long after.

It was late, and the coffee Clint had brought for him wasn't doing much to stave off the exhaustion Steve was feeling. Yet he couldn't leave her side, not when she was like this. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling a bit as she stirred in her sleep. "She's pushing you away for a reason," Clint said suddenly.

"She's made that reason more than clear."

The legs of the chair squeaked as Clint leaned back and propped his feet up on the rails of the bed. "That's not it, though. She self destructs, she always has, she's scared of anything good. Be patient, she'll come back to her senses."

"She made her choice, and I'm respecting it," Steve said firmly. Growing up with a widowed mother had taught Steve a lot, and even with the shift of times much of what she had taught him still stuck. It didn't matter what Steve wanted, if Natasha didn't want him  _well_... well then he just had to accept that. Even if it hurt more than he could describe. He should leave it at that, Clint was never the argumentative type. But the words were already slipping out, "I can't fix her, or even change her. Or expect her to just change her mind because it's never going to happen."

"I care about her too, Fury and I have been looking out for her way longer than you've been around. I wan't her to be happy, because she sure as hell isn't right now. Hasn't been since you started dating Sharon."

"Natasha's not the jealous type," he argued weakly. Natasha jealous, he could barely even imagine it. She knew what she wanted and was never afraid to get it, and she had made it clear that it had  _not_  been Steve.

"Because she never lets herself want anything, and you should consider yourself lucky if she gives enough of a shit about you to be jealous in the first place. It's not like she'd say or do anything about it, she'd shut you out and convince herself it's for the best," Clint said.  _He was just as stubborn as she was._

"She's never going to be with me," Steve snapped. "I'm done talking about this."

"I just want both of you to be happy," Clint said, voice soft.

Silence filled the room as Clint finally dropped the subject.  _Happy_ , Steve thought. It wasn't a possibility for them both to be _happy_ , not when they wanted different things. Not when they could barely be in the same room. Not when he could still remember what it's like to have her, if only for short night.

* * *

People were talking. Loudly. Her brow furrowed as she tried to block them out, her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. But then someone was talking to her, and brushing something against her face. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, in fact it was soothing and she found herself leaning into the stranger's touch. "I think she's waking up."

The harsh ceiling light stung her eyes as she opened them, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She was in the medical wing of SHIELD, that much she was certain of. She had landed herself there enough times to know. But there was something else. Her eyes focused on Steve, his handsome features pinched in concern as he looked down at her. He must have been the voice. Knowing she was safe, she felt her eyes start to close as Steve ran a hand through her hair and caressed her face tenderly. For someone with super strength, he could be so gentle when he wanted to be. But he had other ideas as he spoke, keeping her from slipping back into sleep. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Like someone is squeezing my brain," she murmured. "And tired."

"They got you on some pain meds, nothing too bad, just enough to ease the pain," he assured her. "They're going to keep you here overnight.

Faintly, her mind was telling her to take a step back, that the way Steve was touching her was too intimate. But with her mind clouded with fog, she couldn't remember  _why_  she was doing that. She liked Steve, liked him a lot. And it was nice, his fingers threading through her hair. Comforting in a way she wasn't used to. "That's stupid," she muttered.

"We need to make sure you're alright, Tasha." She recognized Clint's voice, coming somewhere from her right. Her head throbbed in protest as Natasha turned to the direction of his voice, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Steve and smiling for some reason.  _That's rude_ , Natasha never laughed when he landed himself in a hospital bed.  _Often_. "I told you," he said confidently.

Steve looked at her, that line forming between his brows again. She wanted to reach up and smooth it out with her hand, and reassure him that he didn't have to be so  _sad_  all the time. But before she could, his hand stilled and he was pulling it back with a whispered, "Sorry." His arms crossed against his chest. "She's drugged up, Clint. She won't change her mind, she won't even remember this later."

It dully registered in her mind that they were talking about her. But oddly enough, she didn't really care. Regardless of whatever she was on she felt fine, must not have been anything strong. Her head still throbbed painfully but she easily ignored it, choosing to focus on Steve instead. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because if you were yourself right now you wouldn't want me to be touching you," he sighed.

"That's not true," she argued, as she reached out in search of his hand. Swiping at the air weakly until he complied, slipping his hand into hers with a defeated sigh. He sounded sad. Natasha hoped she wasn't the reason why.

His hand was warm. They weren't soft but she still liked when he held her. Why didn't he do it more often? Maybe she should tell him it was okay. In fact, that was exactly what she was going to do.

"You smell nice."

Close enough. Clint was laughing for some reason, but Natasha ignored him as she looked up at Steve. He was pretty, could men even be pretty? They could, Natasha decided as Steve gave her a searching look. "Your eyelashes are long. I can really see them from down here."

He sighed again. Why did he do that so much? "Go back to sleep, Nat. I'll still be here when you wake up," he promised, lightly squeezing her hand.

"So will his eyelashes," Clint quipped.

Sleep did sound appealing, so she listened to him and stopped fighting to stay awake. It wasn't until she had opened her eyes once more after morning had come did she feel like herself again. The daze had wore off and left her feeling disappointed in herself. Disappointed that she couldn't do her job, disappointed that she landed herself in a hospital bed, and disappointed that Steve was the one who had to rescue her from it all. The chair by her bed was vacant, instead Steve was up, speaking to someone in an urgent tone. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong with her?"

"We'll run a few tests on her when she wakes up, but it's likely that she'll just have a headache for a day or two and nothing more."

"Okay," Steve said, still not sounding convinced.

"I'm fine," she cut in, "I'd like to go home now."

Two pairs of eyes landed on her. She thinks she may recognize the doctor, she had probably treated Clint once or twice before. "We have to make sure everything is okay," she assured Natasha in a sweet voice. Steve still looked concerned, and something told her he was not about to help her get out of there any time soon.

"Fine," She huffed. She let the doctor examine her head and take her vitals, all the while Steve watched, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

When the doctor had excused herself, she locked eyes with Steve and it hit her that it was the first time they had been alone together since the night of the party. There was a lot of thing she wanted to say to him, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him to leave or thank him. So she said nothing, averting her eyes and pretending she was alone. "I'm telling Fury to keep you off the field for a week. Maybe longer if you need it," He said sternly.

"What?"

"I'm worried about you, Natasha, and Fury would be too if he knew where you were right now. A simple mission landed you in the hospital, what if it had been worse? Take a week off and clear your head. I'm not fighting you on this," He said, his voice leaving no room for argument. His features softened, the Captain air around him dissolving as he spoke, "What's been going on with you, Natasha?" She said nothing as he watched her, waiting for an answer. She didn't look at him when the bed dipped as he took a seat next to her. "I don't want things between us to be this way."

"I don't either," She admitted.

"So what do we do?" He asked. Honestly? She didn't know. It was irrational, she knew, since she had put them in that situation. After a moments hesitation he said, "You know how I feel. It's up to you, Natasha."

Her mind went back to a different conversation, on the rooftop of Stark tower as he confessed his feelings for the first time and asking her if she felt the same. She had been close to telling him yes, had done everything she did that night thinking she could say yes to him. It was different than that night though, even if she never said it, he knew that some part of her returned those feelings. But even if there was a change between them, she was still the same. Probably worse after what she put him through. It felt like she was being tested, having to say no to him again. It would be the last time she got a chance with him, he would stay true to his word and respect anything she chooses.

Doing the right thing did not always come naturally to her, her moral compass being more than skewed, still, she knew she had to cut him loose. Even if it hurt. She took a deep breath before offering, "Friends?"

His face dropped almost instantly. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, If that's what you want." Even if he could not meet her eyes as he spoke, choosing to look at the floor instead.

Their conversation was interrupted when the doctor emerged once more, holding a clipboard to her chest. Steve rose from the bed and watched from his feet as she examined Natasha once more, paying close attention to Natasha's answers on how she was feeling. The thinly veiled concern dissolved from his features as the doctor confirmed that she was fine. Though Natasha could have told them  _both_  that.

Natasha was already prepared to get out of there, to go home and just be alone for a few hours. "Before we can let you go, we do have some news, Ms Romanoff. Captain Rogers if you don't mind stepping out for a moment."

Natasha had put her body through a lot in her life, and she didn't like the sound of any 'news' even if the doctor seemed even excited to tell her. Her eyes met Steve's, he seemed concerned too and even hesitant to leave.  _She was going to regret this._  "He can stay," she found herself saying.

"If you're sure," The doctor continued.

"I am."

_Just spit it out already_ , Natasha thought. While in the Red Room they had given her a serum not too different from Steve's, though it was not nearly as advanced as his. It did not transform her or any of the other agents' bodies, but it did give them enhanced strength and healing. But it had faded from her system somewhat after she defected to SHIELD, as they had to be injected with the inferior serum every few years. It had been a concern of hers for many years, letting the enchantments fade and how her body reacted to it. It lingered though, the only negative effect being that they were not as strong as they had been before. She was still stronger than average, could heal faster than humanly possible, but it was a concern for her. Not knowing what it could do to it her. The only thing she knew for sure was that she couldn't get pregnant, the healing factor didn't allow her body to go through the process. She was sure the only news that the doctor could have for her had to be negative, she wouldn't be surprised, the Red Room was still finding ways to fuck her over even years later. But then-

"Congratulations are in order, you're expecting."

Faintly, she could still hear the doctor saying something, but Natasha couldn't focus on the words.  _Pregnant_. She was  _pregnant_. But as she thought the sentence over and over, she couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real, couldn't be real. There was no way. Still, her stomach dropped, and her heart pounded against her chest. She blinked, once, twice, trying to bring herself back to the present. All she had to do was explain that it wasn't possible, that the test was wrong. She'd even take an actual test, hell she'd take two. The blood work had to be wrong, people make mistakes. The thought calmed her somewhat, all of two seconds before her eyes landed on Steve. All the color drained from his face and he was running a hand through his hair. Steve. He had to be the father, there was no one else- not since she was with him. Or even in the time before, it had been a few months for her. Maybe she  _was_  pregnant. Her mind went back to that night, and she vaguely remembered Steve asking if she was sure and then asking if she had a condom. But she wanted him and didn't have any protection so she said she was covered. And she should have been. She should have stopped and thought about Steve not being any normal man. He trusted her blindly and now she had unknowingly manipulated him into this with her and  _God_  she was so  _stupid_.

No matter what she did she always managed to fuck  _something_  up.

"You're free to go whenever you're ready. But take your time, I'll give you a moment."

As the door shut, Steve exhaled. "Fuck," he said, rubbing at his face. "Wasn't expecting that."

_So much for friends._  "It's yours," she said bluntly.

"I know. Natasha, can we talk?"

"Not right now, Steve. I need to be alone," she interrupted, already to her feet and grabbing her things.

"Nat, at least let me take you home," he insisted. She had driven there, but her hands hadn't stopped shaking since she heard the news. Driving didn't seem like the best idea, so she took him up on his offer. His shoulders relaxing in relief as she nodded her head with an impassive, "Fine."

As they walked through SHIELD she felt like people  _knew_. Even if her stomach had not begun to swell yet, and she doubted she had the pregnancy glow people never shut up about, their eyes still seemed to bore into her. She pulled her jacket closer to her, trying to conceal herself as they walked to the garage. The minutes seemed to drag, every step seeming slow as the silence filled the space between them. Steve wanted to say something, she could see it in the way he fidgeted with his keys and how his eyes shifted to her every few steps. But she had a feeling that she didn't want to hear anything he had to say in that moment.

He must hate her. She hated herself for not just this but a long list of things that never seemed to end. At least he might listen to her then, might finally come to realize why she wasn't right for him.

They had reached the garage at least and with only a few steps more they were at his bike. There were no protests when he handed her a helmet and she held onto him tighter than necessary for an entirely new reason as they rode out of the garage and onto the city streets. It was not until they were parked in front of her apartment building did she speak. "Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime, Nat." He caught her arm gently as she started to turn to the steps. "If you need anything, call me. I'm here for you."

He didn't have to, she could take care of herself. Always had, always will. But looking at his face in that moment, he looked worn, exhausted mentally and physically, and she found herself not being able to stand it. And he was sincere, she could see it in the way he held her gaze. "I know, Steve," she said softly. "I just need to process this on my own..."

"Talk to me when you're ready," he reassured her. After a moments hesitation he added, "We're gonna be okay, Nat."

Managing a smile and a nod was easy enough, and it seemed to calm him somewhat. Even if concern was still etched in his features as he watched her climb up the steps to her apartment, and remained that way until she shut the door behind her. The elevator was taking too long, and it had only taken her a moment before she found herself running up the stairs to her apartment. Her hands shook as she dug in her bag for her keys, and for the life of her she couldn't get the key in the lock. After a few more tries than she would like to admit, she made it inside, the door closing behind her feeling like the closest thing to relief she had felt in days. She couldn't breathe and opening the window in her living room didn't do much to ease her, in fact, it did the opposite as she heard Steve drive off. She allowed herself a moment, a rare occurrence for herself but a necessity in the moment. She succumbed to the emotion she was feeling as she sunk to the ground, panic completely overwhelming her as she squeezed her eyes shut. Steve's words echoed in her head, meant as a reassurance but doing nothing to calm her.

_We're gonna be okay, Nat._

She really hoped that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought and leave a comment! My tumblr is Natasha-Romanofff if you're like me and think looking at the same gif of Steve Rogers a bunch of times is interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

Empty rooms made Natasha feel trapped.

Objects were useful, she could always find her way out of a room if she had something to break a window with or step on to reach a vent. Empty rooms were not the same, they posed a challenge even for her quick mind. Despite the connection she had made, much of her apartment was bare. Clint called it "weird minimalism bullshit" but Natasha did not see the need to decorate a temporary place. Even if it was an apartment, it was not her home. Filled with only enough furniture to make her feel less suffocated, it could hardly be considered decorated. But it served its purpose, and that's all she needed.

Or did need.

Suddenly, it wasn't just her. Children needed more than just the bare minimum, they needed something that actually felt like a home. Steve's apartment was nice, and she knew he had an attachment to Brooklyn and that he always planned to live there. Everything about the apartment was very much him, and Natasha did enjoy the time she spent there, felt more comfortable in the space than she ever did in her own apartment.

Steve had been isolated since waking up from the ice, and as Natasha looked around the spare room she wondered if the baby would be better off living with him. The room was next to hers, white walls and wood floors, the same as it was when she moved in and the same design as hers. It felt cold. She had put a bed in there for the sake of taking up space, but other than the lone furniture it was empty. With her legs crossed as she sat on the floor, she tried to imagine it being a nursery. Tried to imagine a crib away from the window and the sun, a rocking chair next to it. A changing station and a dresser accompanied by toys littering the floor. As hard as she tried, she couldn't. The room wasn't meant to be a nursery, just like she wasn't meant to be a mother.

It felt like the walls were closing in on her. She was doing everything wrong and the kid was no where near even being born yet. Steve would know what to do, funny enough he was both the only person she wanted to see while also being the last. A part of her knew the best choice would be to give Steve primary custody, to have the kid live with him and rely on him. She could still be involved, of course, but Steve would be the better parent. But she didn't know if that's what _she_  wanted. But parents weren't allowed to be selfish and that was exactly what she was doing. She threw open the window and breathed in the fresh air before another wave of nausea could set in.

The sound of the buzzer was enough to pull her out of whatever force was making her stay trapped in that room. Shutting the door and sealing her worries inside, she let out a relieved sigh from being freed before making her way to the front door. Steve stood there, both hands stuffed in his pockets. She expected him, had texted him only twenty minutes before that she was ready to talk. He replied instantly, had told her he would be over as soon as possible, and didn't waste any time in his arrival. "Ma'am," he greeted her. She hated when he did that, it made he feel old for one, and he usually only did it when he felt uncomfortable near her. Like when they first met and he could barely hold a conversation with her before tripping over his words. She thought they were past that.

"Hi."

He fidgeted, his eyes concentrating on his shoes as he tried to think of what to say. Did he know how easy he was to read? Maybe that's why Natasha liked him. Probably a little too much at that point. "Want to come in?" She offered, hoping to save him from slipping back to the old Steve she knew.

"Please," he said, grateful. Careful to not get in her personal space, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. His eyes roamed his surroundings as he followed her to the couch, though she had a feeling it was likely due to him not knowing what to do with himself.

"Did you change anything lately?" He asked, settling into the cushions.

"No, it's always been this boring," she said. Her floor in the Tower was decorated, nicely too, she'll admit it. Tony had hired an interior designer for the Tower, and it showed in every level and every personal touch. A waste of money if you asked Natasha, but it's not like that was really an issue for Tony.

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"It looks very… clean." He decided on, keeping his eyes trained on the bare walls like they were actually interesting to look at.

"Steve," she said, done with any and all small talk, "We're both adults I think we can handle this conversation."

"Starting it seems like the hard part," Steve chuckled nervously. He looked good. He must have changed his hair recently, as it wasn't styled as neatly as it usually was and it looked attractively tousled as he ran a hand through the strands. He was wearing blue, and she couldn't help but think of when she had revealed to him that she liked him in the color. For a good reason too, the color only added to the way it fit him, the fabric clinging to his chest in a way that was not distracting for Natasha. At all.  _Asshole did that on purpose._

She hadn't seen him since she heard the news the week before, and she wondered what he had been up to. How he was handling it, or if he had told anyone yet. Natasha hadn't. She had kept to herself for the week, had taken the break Fury ordered for her after her stunt in the hospital the week before. Though she could see that Fury was onto her when she hadn't argued and gladly took the time off, but she figured that was a problem for later. He didn't know yet, and Natasha wasn't exactly excited to tell him.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked softly. His hand rose, only to fall back into his lap after a moments hesitation. She could see that he wanted to comfort her, to reach out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Faintly, she could remember his hand in hers when her mind had been clouded in that hospital bed. It was comforting, and her mind was too occupied to think of anything negative that could come from it. He was too optimistic for his own good sometimes, and that short moment between them had only broken his heart again once she was back to herself.

"Fine," Natasha answered.  _Good_  wouldn't have exactly fit.  _Handling it_  seemed a little too real.

"Your heads okay? And everything is fine with..." his eyes went to her stomach as he trailed off.

"Perfectly fine," she promised him.

"Good," he nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to watch your back, I should've stayed close to you. Or done  _something_ -"

"You don't owe me anything," she said bluntly. He cocked his head to the side but before he could say anything, she continued. "And I don't want you to think you have any obligation to help me with..." This baby.  _Their_  baby. "All of this." Even after processing it, she still couldn't say the word out loud to him. It would make it real. Make it seem like it could cement them together in some way. "It's my choice to go through with this but you still have a way out."

"A way out? Natasha-" He cut himself off, sliding a hand down his face as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I don't want out. I want to be involved completely, in every way that I can be."

Of course he did. Natasha wasn't expecting anything less from him, but still, something in her  _knew_  he should stay away from her. Had to give him the option even if he was too dumb to take it. Although it was better this way, she guessed, knowing this kid would have someone other than her. Not just anyone, but Steve. Perfect, kind Steve. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he insisted without an ounce of hesitation.

She couldn't change his mind, and was not exactly sure if she even wanted to. There was one thing she could do, though. She stood, went to the place that she found herself going to frequently for the past few days. There in her nightstand was a sonogram she had gotten during her first doctors visit earlier in the week. She was pregnant, no doubt about it after she had laid in a bed with a gel covering her stomach and looking at the screen next to her. It was real, and now she had something to remind her of it. Steve looked stiff when she returned to him, yet he still tried to smile at her when she sat back down. She handed him the scan, not saying anything as he rose an eyebrow.

Silence filled the room as he looked it over, and for a moment Natasha wondered if he knew what it was. She doubted he had any experience with pregnancy after coming out of the ice, would have no reason to know of the updated technology around it. Maybe Tony would have mentioned something, but she wouldn't be surprised if he didn't know much. "Is this a sonogram?" he asked, not looking up.

"Yeah."

"Would you look at that," he laughed. "This is really happening, huh?" He couldn't tear his eyes away, even when she settled onto the space next to him. At only two months pregnant, it looked a little odd to Natasha at first. Kinda like a blob if she was being honest. Still, her heart swelled as she peeked over Steve's shoulder, not getting over the image no matter how many times she looked at it. It was strange sharing it with Steve. Up until then it had been hers and hers alone, but it did mean as much to Steve as it did to her. She could see it in the way his eyes shined as tears threatened to spill over.

"Guess so," she said lightly.

"When did you go to the doctors?" He asked suddenly, finally looking up from the sonogram.

"Few days ago," she shrugged.

"I'd like to, I mean if it's okay with you, I'd like to come with you next time,"

"You don't have to."

"I want to," he insisted. "Its important to me, please."

"Fine," she relented. She made a mental note to text him later with the details, she didn't really want to talk about it in that moment. She had gotten some less than polite looks when she had entered the OB-GYN office by herself, and she didn't care to relive it. It would be nice to have someone with her though, as she couldn't help her eyes going to all the couples in the waiting room. "You can keep that, I asked for two," she offered.

"Thanks," he said sincerely, a sweet smile on his face. They shared a look as he turned to her. He looked happy, happier than he had been for a long time, and she found herself fighting the urge to smile back at him. He bumped her shoulder lightly with his own before saying, "Everyone's worried about you."

"Did you tell them?" She was quick to ask.

"No, I wanted to check up on you first. But they do know that you spent the night in the medical ward, and Tony's been wondering where you've been," he explained.

"Took a week off, Captain's orders."

"Doesn't mean you had to stay away for a week. We're going to have to tell them some time, probably sooner than later." He was right. She probably only had a few weeks before she started showing and she knew she would have to tell them before that. Still, she couldn't guess what their reactions would be. What they would think of her after hearing the news, and she was not in any rush to find out. She stayed quiet, not really knowing what to say. "You can talk to me, you know. You used to trust me," he said.

"I still do."

"It's different now," he said. "You don't need to push us all away, especially not now." She could have been angry with him, if he had been annoyed, or mad at her, or anything besides concerned. It was difficult being near him for a number of reasons for the past few weeks, but she had found herself feeling guilt around him more than she had ever before. Though she was no stranger to it, it was a tiring emotion. The worst was that he still cared for her, even before they discovered the news. He was permanent in her life before they were officially joined. She didn't know why the thought terrified her so much.

"I'm not," she insisted. Distancing herself maybe, but not pushing.

"You are though, and you have been for months. Our situation might not be normal, but it's still happening and I can't do this without you," he said.

Natasha didn't like the idea of needing someone. Putting her trust completely in another person to take care of her, she would take the alternative every time. To be alone and to care for herself. Somehow her team had found a way into her heart, she can't deny that, but even if they rely on her she never  _had_  to do the same. She could care for them at a safe distance, and if she ever had to leave then she was free to. Nothing could trap her to where she was, or used to anyway. Not anymore. Not when there was a constant reminder of when she had let her walls down and let Steve get too close to her. She could try to push him out all she wanted, but she knew that there was nothing she could do that could make him leave. Even before everything that had happened the week before. She had let him in and he was never going to leave.

As if he could read her thoughts, he was speaking again. "I'm scared too," he admitted freely. "It's normal, Nat."

He was right, but that didn't mean she had to admit it. "I'm not scared."

Suddenly, his arms were enveloping her and she was sinking into his warm embrace. It felt too nice to push him away like she knew she should, so she only bunched up his shirt in her hands and buried her face in the fabric. Like she could hide from the world, this pregnancy, and, ironically enough, Steve. "I'm not scared," she insisted again.

"I believe you," he murmured into her hair.

Pulling back from her hiding space, she came face to face with him. "You're a terrible liar."

"You can't keep acting like you're not human," he said gently. "Believe it or not, emotions are normal."

"They're inconvenient," Natasha huffed. They were. There was no logical reason why Steve would want her, or even why she would think, if only for a few hours, that she could actually have him. But in the rare times she had listened to her heart, it had always done the complete opposite of what her head knew was right. Feelings were stupid, she decided, even if it was juvenile. All they did was cause problems and create weaknesses. Ones that couldn't always be reversed, Steve's presence next to her taught her that much.

"What do you think about telling everyone else? I'd rather them hear it from us than anyone else," he asked.

They'd probably laugh at them, because really,  _what were the fucking odds_. But they'd be supportive, excited also maybe. When Tony had broken the news about Pepper's pregnancy, everyone was excited, like it was the team's baby instead of just the couple's. Natasha was too, she had witnessed them falling in love after knowing Tony for so many years, and she knew it's what they both wanted. Tony was good with kids, on the rare occasion that the avengers would do press (as ridiculous as it sounded to Natasha no matter how many times they did it) Tony would never hesitate to talk to the kids dressed like him. Would pose for as many pictures as they wanted and even pick a few kids up like it was the most natural thing in the world. He used his resources for teenagers too, allowed countless internships and gave out scholarships to give them a head start in life. Tony was meant to be a father, anyone who knew him well enough could vouch for that. But Natasha? She wasn't sure the maternal instinct had ever really reached her, or if it ever will. And she wasn't exactly  _nice_. They had seen as much when she had pushed Steve away like he was nothing. Even if they didn't know the details, they weren't very discreet that night and there was a clear difference in their interactions after. Still, Steve was right. It would hurt them if they found out from anyone else, and Natasha would like to control the narrative on it as much as she could.

"I'll tell Clint tonight, and the next time we see everyone else we should tell them," she agreed.

"Do you mind if I tell Sam?"

She liked Sam, she did. And even if he wasn't officially part of their team, she cared for him just as much as the others. Still, he was closest to Steve. In fact, it was a shock that Steve hadn't told him right away. She found herself wondering what he'd think of her, if him and Steve would take their private moment to talk about her. Say the awful things about her that she knew everyone thought even if no one was brave enough to say it aloud.

Logically, she knew that wasn't them, she could barely even picture them in that position. But she couldn't help the fear of two people she respected seeing her for what she really was. Still…

"Everyone is going to find out somehow. Tell anyone that you want," she shrugged. He only nodded, looking a little forlorn at her lack of excitement.

There was a lull in the conversation. The tension returning between them as they ran out of safe topics. With her mind already made up on telling Clint, she felt anxious to do it. To get it over with as soon as she could, and she didn't really want Steve around when she did. He must have sensed it also, as he was rising quickly.

"I should head out. But I'll see you at the Tower tomorrow?" He asked. If they weren't working then they usually spent Saturday nights "team bonding" as Tony called it. She had been planning on skipping it, but she understood Steve's intentions on using the time to tell them, and knew she should go.

"I'll see you," she promised. She walked him to her door, feeling stiff the entire short path. He said goodbye, looking as if he wanted to say more. But she chose to ignore it and return the farewell before shutting the door between them.

* * *

Morning sickness was  _ass_. Natasha could think of plenty of things she'd rather wake up to than the urge to rush to the bathroom as her body fought her. It hadn't been bad that morning, she had managed to wake up normally and keep the breakfast she had eaten down. But as she stepped into Clint's apartment, the strong smell of coffee almost sent her running. She used to like the smell, had relied on coffee in place of sleep countless times, but suddenly it had become the worst thing she had ever encountered.

Without thinking, she was crossing his kitchen and dumping the contents of the pot down the sink. "Well hello to you too," Clint said, watching her from his place on the couch. He still had a mug of it in his hands and she found herself glaring at the damn thing. "You're in a good mood tonight. Steve's a lucky guy, you know that?"

"Shut up, Clint."

"What? Don't want to talk about your boyfriend?" Clint teased. "That's fine, I don't really want to know the details of why you disappeared for a week."

"He's not my boyfriend," she said, trying not to think of how childish it sounded.

"Then what did you want to tell me?" He asked, rising from the couch and joining her in the kitchen. Her nose wrinkled as he opened the bag of coffee, the aroma filling the kitchen once more. He didn't notice though, and continued to brew a new pot.

The timing couldn't be worse.  _He's not my boyfriend, just the father of my child._  It sounded ridiculous even to her own ears, and she knew Clint would never accept that she wasn't with Steve if she said it. She could stall, have a break in denying anything about Steve before breaking the news. But she didn't really have anything else to say, and she did want to tell Clint. Knew he would be the last person to judge her, even if he wouldn't hesitate to give her a hard time.

She hesitated as she watched him scoop the coffee beans into the filter. There wasn't really any delicate way to say it, and she figured she might as well just get it out.

"I'm pregnant."

Coffee spilled everywhere as Clint dropped the bag on the floor, the smell sending a fresh wave of nausea through her. "Are you fucking with me?" He asked.

"Do I look like I'm fucking with you?"

"Holy shit," he breathed. He looked ready to hug her, a smile on his face but he paused as he caught sight of her. He sobered instantly, ignoring the mess to focus on her. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tasha."

She understood the hidden meaning behind his words, and couldn't deny that it had crossed her mind. She couldn't be a mother. She wasn't fit for it and it was never a title she was supposed to have. Spy, double agent, assassin. Mother seemed out of place. Her body wasn't even supposed to be able to go through pregnancy. But it did. And she found herself in a situation she never thought she'd be in, one she didn't know if she ever would be in again. Could she throw away her one chance at this? She trusted Steve, knew he'd be a good father, and knew he was excited. She didn't want to take that away from him, or take that away from  _herself_. She was not a normal woman, and if it was her only chance, then she was taking it. "I know. I'm keeping it."

Clint smiled and pulled her into an embrace. Leave it to Clint to ignore any of the negative outcomes of the news, it always annoyed her how damn positive he could be when she was feeling just the opposite. Why the hell was she friends with him. "Don't pregnant women bloat really badly?" He asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Oh fuck you, Clint," she said, shoving him away as he laughed like he was _actually funny_.

"C'mon you needed the laugh."

"You're the only one laughing," she reminded him. She had never told him, or anyone, that she was infertile. Never thought she would need to, not when she didn't want to get married or commit herself to anyone. It made sense that he was happy for her even without the knowledge of the deeper meaning behind it all, he always managed to see the best in her. But so did Steve, and that did nothing but hurt him.

"Have you told Steve yet?" She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Who else would it be?" He challenged.

"He was with me when I found out," she admitted, not bothering to go into the details of it. She didn't really want to think of how Steve spent the night in the medical ward with her, not even sleeping as he stayed in the stiff chair besides her for hours. Clint had spent a fair amount of time with her also, but he had been called back in to debrief the mission she had failed to do. Steve refused to leave her though, even before he knew she was pregnant.

"Are you finally going to give him a shot?" Clint asked.

" _Clint_ ," she warned.

"What? We all knew it was going to happen anyway," he shrugged. "We all already thought that it did, but then you both started acting weird."

"It's not going to happen," she stated firmly.

"That's what he said too, you know." Clint disappeared down the hall, probably in search of a broom. Though as she looked around his apartment, she was even surprised he owned one in the first place. "He wasn't convincing either," Clint called.

"When did you talk to him?" She asked. It was strictly curiosity, she didn't care what Steve thought of her. At all.

Clint reappeared, a broom and dustpan in his hand and an annoying smile on his face. "When you had managed to get that nasty bump on your head and scared the crap out of all of us. It was after he carried you to the quinjet but before you told him that he smelled nice."

She would help him clean up the mess if he wasn't annoying her so much, and she could blame it on the hormones but it was nothing new. Clint was like the annoying brother that she never asked for. Or wanted. "I told him he smelled nice?"

"And that you liked his eyelashes," he continued.  _Well_ , she could have gone her whole life without knowing _that_. "Did he talk to you again after that?"

She relented, and turned to the sink full of dishes just so she had something to do with her hands. The sponge looked old, and she tossed it before replacing it with a new one from under the sink. With a generous amount of dish soap, she began on a stack of plates that were probably no less than a week old. "He did."

"And?"

"And nothing. We agreed to be friends."

"Before or after you heard the big news?" He asked as he dumped the contents of the dust pan into the garbage. He joined her, and began placing the clean dishes in the dishwasher.

"Before."

"Hm."

"'Hm,' what?"

He sighed, continuing with the task at hand while he spoke. "Do you really think Steve will accept being 'friends' after all of this?" He questioned.

"Yes, and he is. Steve's not a jerk, he wouldn't pursue me relentlessly after rejecting him-" She caught herself as Clint snorted.

"You're right, your boyfriend is nice," he nodded, not hiding his amusement.

"I _will_  break this plate."

"What do you think is going to happen? Just because you ignore any and all emotions doesn't mean you don't have any, and you're going to realize one day that you should have taken the chance with him. And it might be a little too late, a guy can only take so much rejection," he said.

"Drop it, Clint," she said sharply.

"Alright,  _alright_ , I'll stop wanting the best for my best friend and her unborn child," he said. " _But_  would it really be so bad if you were in a relationship? It's Steve, he's not going to hurt you."

She knew that, but it wasn't exactly the problem. Steve would never hurt her, would never be unfaithful to her or treat her as anything less than an equal. But she didn't deserve that. Especially with Steve.

She concentrated on the cup in front of her, the coffee stains had long been washed away but she still ran it under the water. "I know that, but we both know he's not the problem. I'm sure Steve will figure that out soon enough."

"Tasha," he started, sympathy written on his features as he gave her a searching look. He held the thought to himself though as their eyes met. He was right though. Even if it was short lived, she had avoided him when he was with Sharon. She couldn't handle seeing him with someone else, especially when she knew he would be her's if she wanted him. The statement was just as true then as it was now, but she knew it was not always going to be like that. That one day he'll move on, find somebody else who would treat him how he deserved. She  _did_  care for him, and more than anything she wanted the best for him. But she couldn't explain why the thought of him moving on hurt her so much.

With the last dish washed and in its place in the dishwasher, Natasha shut off the water and dried her hands off. "Want to see the sonogram?" She asked, trying to turn the conversation around.

"Of course I do."

The first time she had seen it fear shot through her and stayed rooted for days, but as she looked at it now she felt a happiness she couldn't describe. But it was a reassurance too, that she would always have a piece of Steve with her even if she couldn't be with him. And that she could do something for him after everything she put him through, give him something besides work to have in his life. There was no fear or hesitation the first time he saw the sonogram, only love as he examined it. After, he had carefully tucked it away in his wallet, in a place where he could see it everyday. It had eased her, knowing he was just as invested as she was. There was a rare smile on her face when she passed it to Clint after retrieving it from her purse, and his face quickly mirrored hers as he looked it over. "It looks like you. All blobby."

"Funny."

"Wait. I see it," Clint said, looking closer.

"What?" She asked, not even thinking to hide the fear in her voice.

"It has Steve's eyelashes. You must be happy," he said, laughing even as she shoved him lightly. "Shit, Tash. You're going to be a mom."

"I am," she said, not bothering to hide the emotion in her voice. Not feeling the need to as it was just Clint.

It took some effort to look away from the sonogram, but she managed to when Clint handed it back to her. She was going to place it safely back in her bag, but Clint was leaning down to her stomach before she could. "Don't be as stubborn as your parents, kid. Then your Uncle Clint won't give you beer," he said.

"I'm not letting you near this kid."

"Please, I'll be it's favorite," he stated confidently. "Tony will be too busy spoiling his own kid to spoil this one, so I might have a chance." She would have retorted that Tony would have no problem spoiling both of the kids, but the thought only made her think of what was to come the next night. Of telling them all with Steve by her side, like it was  _normal_.

"We still haven't told everyone else," she said instead, leaning against the counter.

"I hope you didn't, I'd be pissed if I found out last. Coffee?" He offered.

"God no. I can't stand the smell right now," she declined. He nodded and set the bag down. She would feel bad if it wasn't already late, and she wouldn't be surprised if he already had a few cups. "And you're the only one who knows besides Steve and I. He wants to tell Sam but I don't know if he's done it yet," she explained.

"When are you going to tell Fury?"

_Nick_. She had thought about how she was going to tell him, but quickly pushed the thought away. It wouldn't make sense to hide anything from Fury, he would find out who the father was sooner or later. Still, he wanted the best for her, always had since he accepted her into SHIELD all those years ago, and she couldn't help but think that she would let him down. He wasn't one to judge, but between her and Steve's character… there was no competition on who was the better person. She wasn't naive, she knows what people will think when they hear about it. But Nick was one of the few who's opinion she actually cared about. "Soon," she said.

"How soon?"

"Very soon."

He knew better than to challenge her, so he dropped it. They both knew she would tell him, wouldn't risk getting back on the field just to protect her pride. Still, it didn't mean she would have to look forward to it. "We're telling everyone tomorrow though," she revealed.

"Excited?"

"Not the word I'd use."

"Why not?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"Why wouldn't I look forward to announcing to my friends and coworkers that I hooked up with Steve and didn't use a condom?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well when you word it like  _that_  maybe. Also, didn't need the mental image, so thanks for that."

"What, thinking about his ass now?" Natasha teased.

"Don't need to. His suit doesn't leave much to the imagination." She held back a laugh, but a smile still found a way to her face. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how long have you and Steve-?"

Anyone else and she would refuse to answer. Her business was private, and she didn't just hand out information to anyone. But there was no judgement in Clint's voice, and there wouldn't be no matter what her answer was. It was a fair question. "Only once."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." She insisted. "Why?"

"I mean, there's a small chance that it would happen after one time. And I don't know, you've both been acting weird, like when you both left the bar at the same time the other night," he shrugged, trailing off as he let her fill in the blanks.

"What do you mean he left?" She asked. It was news to her, but then again she was in such a rush to get away from him that she didn't stop to notice if he had been close behind.

"About five minutes after you he just upped and left even though he just got there," Clint explained. She couldn't deny that she felt a little bad. She thought it was clear that she left so he could stay, that she wouldn't bother him for the night.

"Oh." Was all she managed to get out.

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Clint started.

"No, I asked," she shrugged.

"Things will be better now. This will be good for him, for both of you."

She tried to see it from Clint's perceptive, to ignore everything that had happened between her and Steve and focus solely on the positive. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was pregnant, that she had something she never thought she would, and even if she could never have Steve... Well she knew that she would never be alone.

"It will."


End file.
